At All Hours
by Ceasefire
Summary: [HavocRoy fluff] Roy gets up to finish a report on a cold night, inadvertently worrying his lover.


This is just some cute, simple fluff. I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Eyes opening wearily, Roy Mustang cursed the moonlight that was filtering through the curtains and directly into his face and groaned. It had taken him long enough to drift off as it was; he was due to hand in an important paper the next day to the department of the army in charge of alchemical research; it was supposed to be a part of a published document on the formation of specific transmutation circles, designed to explain the practice instead of the theory of alchemy, which was difficult to explain to anyone not familiar with the art anyway. He'd been up until well past midnight checking the notes, diagrams and details over and over again, until Havoc had finally forced him to come to bed by physically dragging him away from his desk.

Roy could feel Jean's soft breath against the back of his head and his fingers curling into the material of his shirt, and he placed his hand over Jean's in a vague, tired gesture of affection and shut his eyes again, angling his head to try and avoid the moonlight coming through the window. After about fifteen minutes, he could feel his resolve wearing thin and he instead moved to lie on his back, shivering a little when he felt Jean's fingers curl against his hip.

_'The practice of controlling fire through alchemy involves many intricate and specific uses of various arrays in order to complete the sequence that eventuates in transmutation...'_ Roy began to recite his own paper in his mind, going over every important point that he made, faulting himself for every minor inconsistency and difficult point. Sighing softly and rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself up, Roy's hand squeezed Jean's briefly before he slid out of bed and headed into the bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water and, after wiping off the excess water with a towel, tiptoed past the bed, being careful not to wake Jean up and into the hallway that led to the rest of the apartment.

The study was always the coldest room in the house, because no matter what time of day it was the sun never managed to hit the single, small window set into the only wall that wasn't completely covered with bookcases, boxes of notes or diagrams. Roy could feel the chill from the crack under the door against his toes, and he shivered. Considering the temperature of the room for a moment, and exactly how long he figured it would take to give his report a thorough reread, he backtracked a short way to the linen cupboard, took the only spare blanket he owned out and wrapped it around his shoulders.

The room was still cold, but not nearly as cold as it would have been had he not had the blanket with him. Feeling infinitely glad that Jean wasn't there to tease him about being 'adorable' and all manner of stupid things, Roy walked over to his desk, picked up his reading glasses and the papers he had left resting underneath them, and flopped down on the small, comfortable chair in the corner of the room, one of the many things Jean had brought from his apartment when he had moved in. He pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, still not enjoying the feeling of the plastic against his skin; it had been Jean's fault anyway, for insisting he get his eyes tested after he'd started getting headaches while at work. Curling his toes into the soft cushion of the chair, a little more irritably than he'd intended, he flipped past the introductory pages of the report and to the main body of the notes and began to read.

* * *

When Jean Havoc woke up later that night due to the bright moonlight against his face, he rolled over to curl his arms around his lover only to find that said lover wasn't beside him; or anywhere else in the bed, for that matter. Eyes opening tiredly, Jean looked over to the door that led to their small bathroom to see if the light was on; it wasn't.

Feeling slightly less at-ease, Jean slid out of bed, taking half the bedding with him in order to keep warm. The floorboards were chilled under his feet, and he shivered as he walked out of the bedroom and into the main area of Roy's apartment. He noticed the light coming from the study almost immediate and sighed; it had only been a couple of hours ago when he had dragged himself out of bed when he realized Roy hadn't come in from rereading his report and practically carried him to bed and held him so he wouldn't get up without his notice. Apparently Roy's tossing and turning had made him tired and sleep soundly when he finally did end up drifting off.

Running his hand through his hair (and almost losing the bedding he'd dragged off the bed to keep him warm in the process), Jean headed down the hallway and nudged the study door open with his toes. Roy was sitting on the cushioned chair that Jean himself had brought over when he had moved in, a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders, his glasses almost falling off and his head drooping as he evidently tried to stay focused on the report he was holding.

"Next time you say you're not tired I'll remember that that means _I'm exhausted_ in Royspeak."

Roy grunted and stirred, looking tiredly over his shoulder at Jean, who grinned and walked over to him.

"Your glasses are lopsided, Colonel."

Roy scowled and hooked the right side of the frame back behind his ear. Jean chuckled and gently tried to take the report from the older man, but Roy moved away just enough to cause Jean's hand to miss the top left-hand corner.

"Come on, Roy, it's late," Jean whispered against the shell of Roy's ear, letting the bedding around his shoulders drop to the floor as he gently grabbed Roy's wrists.

"I know it's late, but I need to get this done," Roy murmured.

"I bet Lieutenant Hawkeye wishes you were this keen in the office, Boss," Jean chuckled, brushing Roy's wrist with his thumb, "Come on, come back to bed."

Roy sighed and let Jean take the papers from him and place them back on his desk.

"I'm sure I'll find a million mistakes in the morning..."

"You've already read that report over once for every supposed mistake, Roy. If you find any mistakes in the morning, I'll help you fix them. Well, at least the ones I can understand."

"You'll probably just make them worse," Roy replied, but he smiled as he said it. Jean grinned back and walked back over to Roy, offering his hand.

Roy took it, and Jean immediately pulled him into his arms. Barely a second later, Jean leaned in to kiss him and Roy shut his eyes, the blanket on his shoulders slipping down his back until it was held still by Jean's hand on his waist.

When they parted, Jean grinned again and gently reached up to slip Roy's glasses off and placed them safely on the chair Roy had been sitting in. He then bent down to grab the sheets he'd dragged off the bed, and took Roy's hand and led him back to the bedroom.

"You dragged all the blankets off the bed?" Roy asked when he saw the state of their bed; completely bare, save the fitted sheet, and pillows askew on the floor.

"I was cold," Jean shrugged, tossing the sheets on the bed in a pile and picking the pillows up off the floor, "It's too late to remake it now anyway."

"You could have grabbed a blanket from the cupboard."

"Roy, you don't own any other blankets," Jean chuckled.

"Either way, we're going to freeze tonight," Roy murmured, watching Jean shake the blankets straight and lay them roughly over the bed. When Jean took his hand, he allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed next to him.

"No, we won't," Jean smiled, sliding his arm under Roy's body and kissing his hair.

Roy rolled his eyes, but pulled the blankets up over the both of them and let Jean hold him. It wasn't long before Jean felt Roy's breath even out and slow against his chest, and he gladly followed his Colonel into slumber.

**END**


End file.
